


Men Who Love Too Much

by gloss



Category: Twitch City
Genre: Banter, M/M, chore wheels for sex, reality subsides before media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-01
Updated: 2006-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23831959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/pseuds/gloss
Summary: Newbie suddenly can't get enough of the Nathan Show.Nathan makes a fuck-wheel, because of course he does.
Relationships: Nathan/Newbie





	Men Who Love Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> from 2006! Beta by brooklinegirl and this was dedicated to Divya <3

It probably started at the trial, but Newbie didn't realize it then. All dressed up in his funeral suit, waiting to be called to testify, he was drowning in the jitters. He wasn't exactly nervous, he didn't think, but the courthouse downtown was a strange place. Full of serious faces and rushed steps, like Important Matters were going down.

Newbie couldn't quite sit still. He tried to calm himself by looking at the back of Nathan's head.

The guy sat ramrod straight, shoulders square in a nice black suit. His head was like a piece of sculpture, Newbie thought, a piece of stone that wasn't quite done getting sculpted. His hair was thinning on top but neatly trimmed all around. Grown-up hair, Newbie remembers thinking, like a banker's or a lawyer's. Better than the hair on his actual lawyer, which was kind of frowsy and in need of a good thwacking. Newbie's own hair was freshly trimmed and while from some angles it looked decent, from others, he seemed to be about eight years old.

When they finally called Newbie, he didn't hear at first. He was too busy concentrating on the tiny curl of hair just behind Nathan's left ear. But then his mom elbowed him and he stumbled to his feet.

On the way to the witness box, he bumped into the prosecutor's table and got a huge-ass bruise on his thigh.

His testimony was, like, fourteen minutes long. He tried to look at Nathan, but the guy was scowling at him and making Newbie forget what he was supposed to say.

Nathan always was pretty cranky. Not like you could blame him, given the circumstances, but _still_. That kind of negative energy couldn't be healthy.

Nice suit, though.

*

He pretty much forgot about Nathan after that. He had a lot of things on the go -- Cory Haim's personal archive was on commission at Hollywood Renaissance on Yonge Street, and there was a whole spate of old Looney Tunes shorts, uncensored, that that crazy guy Reg was showing in his apartment, he got promoted from assistant manager at the store to junior manager, and, best of all, he moved in with Curtis and the delectable Hope. For awhile there, Newbie's life was looking pretty damn fine.

It wasn't until after the Great Yet Devastating Remote and TV-Q Challenge, when he was lying on the couch in his mom's den in Markham, that Nathan came back into Newbie's thoughts.

That made an awful kind of sense, really. From empyrean highs to hellish lows and he was pretty fucking sure he couldn't get any lower.

Nor colder.

It went like this: Newbie was stuck in _Markham_. His mom insisted on calling him by his old name. His commute to the store took a fucking hour and a half, not including the 2K hike to the bus stop. Uphill, in the frigid cold. Downtown, he'd always been warm enough in his corduroy Lee jacket with its ersatz-shearling lining, but out in the suburban wastelands, the wind cut right through and he had to switch to his Carhartt parka. Plus, his mom made him wear a goddamn toque.

He was going to die out there. He _knew_ it, down to his chillblained bones.

Maybe it wasn't that it was _warmer_ downtown, necessarily, but there were a lot more places to duck into and warm up -- out there, in the land of the station wagon, there was _one_ donut store on the way to the bus stop and he never had time to go in because he always overslept.

If his mom had just let him borrow her car, none of this would have been a problem.

But it was a problem and he was cold, even there in the den with the furnace turned up and his favorite green afghan tucked around him. Newbie got to thinking about how he was in exile. An internal refugee, really, like those poor Eskimos sent up to the North Pole in the 50s, like somebody out of Solzhenitsyn. His mom's semi-detached was as much of a prison as any jail or work camp and he'd been exiled here solely on the basis of his convictions, for standing up for what he believed in, for daring to challenge the Great and Powerful Curtis.

"I watch to learn, not to laugh," Newbie said in a mocking sing-song. "I'm Curtis. I know more than you. I'll always be cooler than you. Gimme your drugs and snacks. Jackass."

And it was then, in a flash like lightning crossed with a John Williams score, that Newbie understood how Nathan must feel.

Stuff came back to him then, things Nathan had said over the years that Newbie didn't even remember hearing -- after all, he usually tuned the guy out, yammer-yammer, yadda-yadda. But now he could hear that intense voice, shaded with a slight East Coast burr, and see Nathan's dark eyes practically glowing as he spluttered and bitched: "The sheer _arrogance_ of the man, he has no soul, no sense of personal ethics, why, he..."

Maybe, Newbie thought, as he sat up so fast that he spilled the hot cocoa and plate of Peek Freans he'd had balanced on his stomach, maybe Nathan was right. Maybe rage _was_ the way to go, maybe it _was_ healthy, maybe you had to get mad, go nuts, take a stand, if you were going to stay sane in this crazy, horrible mixed-up world where _Curtis_ was king.

"Craig?" his mom asked from the breakfast nook as he tore through, yanking on his jacket and banging face-first into the hanging copper pans. "Do you want some supper? Craig, honey, where are you going?"

"Out," he yelled over his shoulder. "To jail."

Frying pan, fire.

Besides, he'd never seen the inside of a jail before. It'd be pretty cool.

*

Seated at the visitor's cell, he heard Nathan's voice well before he could see anything.

"I'm telling you, I don't know anyone named Craig! I think I'd remember if I did, and since I patently do not, I think --"

They'd taken Newbie's name from his health card, that was the problem. He really needed to change it legally one of these days.

The acoustics in here were amazing. Probably had to do with the mindblowing Victorian architecture of the place: Vincent Price Presents...The Penal System. This place was _great_ , all looming and gloomy and damp, the hallways echoing back his footsteps long after he'd sat down on his side of the cloudy plastic divider.

"Well, fine, then. I'll go sit down. It's not as if I get many visitors _anyway_ , which is fairly strange, considering I always got along very well with my coworkers and I do have a girlfriend --"

Nathan was still pontificating at the guard as he pushed through the swinging door. Newbie figured he ought to stand up and smile, so he did. Not that he knew the etiquette of jailhouse visits, but it was like Rex Reilly said in Live Rex Acts: The Unauthorized Investigation: Smile, and the world smiles with you.

Nathan wasn't smiling. He stopped short and spat out, " _You_?"

Waving heartily, Newbie sat back down and picked up the phone. "It's me, Newbie. How're you doing?"

"How do you _think_ I'm doing? I'm in _prison_. I'm locked up with monsters and psychopaths in this hellhole --"

"Hey." Newbie grinned. "Yeah, it's pretty badass, isn't it?"

"Badass? _Badass_? Badass is St. James Town, badass is Regent Park or Jane and Finch. This place is so far past that, it's off the map." Nathan was all hunched up, face flushing as he got going. "It reeks of despair and desperation, of -- of -- of sorrow and violence, the brute, grim animal instinct for survival at all costs, never mind your fellow man. Never mind --" Nathan's voice just kept rising and Newbie tried to subtly hold the phone a couple inches from his ear. "Never mind civility, civilized intercourse --"

"Lotsa anal rape, huh?" Newbie asked, still traumatized by that episode of St. Elsewhere set in the prison riot.

Nathan glared at him. "Civilized _intercourse_. Never mind _respect_. Simple, humanistic respect --"

"Yeah," Newbie said. Even through the scratchitti'd plastic -- **Velma's bitch** , <3 <3, **ain't no exit** , **straight outta Etobicoke** \-- he could see Nathan's face getting more and more red. Passion was, like, transforming the man. Like a long fade-out/fade-in done with colored cels, he was changing into something Newbie couldn't tear his eyes away from. "Yeah, hey. It's a real trip."

Nathan's eyes widened, the whites gone a little pink with spidery veins, and he slowly deflated. The flush started fading from his cheeks, his shoulders tilted as he slumped down, and he licked the corner of his mouth. When he finally did speak, his voice sounded tired, ironed-out. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting you."

"Why?"

Not sure if that was a trick question, Newbie looked around. "Because you're in jail?"

Nathan rubbed hard at his forehead, like he was massaging out a charley horse, some kind of brain cramp. Then he left his hand there.

Newbie got a sudden, visceral, really unfuckingpleasant flashback to his logic prof, who'd do exactly that whenever he had to call on someone.

He cleared his throat. "And, hey. Figured I'd check in. See how --" Not 'how you're doing', they'd already covered that, and not 'what jail's like, is it more like Oz or Lock Up?' -- "See how you're holding up."

Yeah, that sounded good. Even better when Nathan finally looked up, hand slipping from his face as his mouth twitched into a shape resembling a smile. His eyes weren't glowering any more; they'd softened and although they were still intense, it was good kind of intense. Newbie smiled back.

He felt like this was the kind of moment where he ought to press his palm against the plastic -- right there, right over **Manny likes it up the a$$** \-- and then Nathan would mirror the gesture and an acoustic instrumental would come up, right? And they'd be sharing the _moment_ , together but separate, a whole perfect image of two solitudes and...stuff.

Newbie was reaching forward already when he realized that Nathan was saying something. He snatched back his hand and drove it into his lap. No moment, no, sir. How faggy was that?

"Um, what? Repeat that?" he said.

Nathan grimaced and said very patiently, like Newbie was slow _and_ half-deaf, "Did Curtis send you? What does he want now?"

"Oh," Newbie said. "Nah."

"No?"

He hadn't seen Curtis since the Quiz of Destiny. "No. Me and Curtis, we're not exactly real tight any more."

Nathan smiled at that. "He's very accomplished at betraying people. Attaching himself like a leech, draining you heart and soul. I remember..." And there he was, getting worked up again, launching into the story of how he met Curtis, how he got saddled with the scrawny bastard, and Newbie tried to listen. He really did. Snatches of phrases made it through -- "the laziest vampire on Earth" and "completely disregarded even the most politely-phrased requests" and "never should have put his name on the lease" -- but mostly, mostly Newbie couldn't help but let the tirade wash over him. Like a laser lightshow set to _Dark Side of the Moon_ , Nathan was this whole synesthetic experience and all Newbie could do was just...let it happen. Experience it for the sake of experience, on its own terms, for all its whacked-out spluttering goddamned passionate glory.

He jolted back to full consciousness when an alarm sounded and the people in the booths on either side of him started to gather up their things and stand up. A couple guards came in and announced that visiting hours were over.

"Hey," Newbie said. "Guess I better get going."

A guard behind Nathan put his hand on Nathan's shoulder but Nathan shrugged it off like it was a fly. He nodded.

"Been -- been interesting," Newbie added. "Educational."

"Sure," Nathan said, like he believed just the opposite.

Newbie stood up, still holding onto the phone. A guard was advancing on him; he got sudden visions of Mark Fuhrman or that creepy robot announcing "torture style D" in _Star Slammer_ , and said quickly, "Hey, you like crossword puzzles?"

Nathan opened his mouth but no sound came up. Maybe they cut the phone system when the visiting hours were up.

"Yeah, you do," Newbie said at the top of his voice. "Crossword puzzles, hey." He remembered Nathan buying those big books at the store every so often. "I'll bring some for you next time."

Nathan's mouth was still working silently as the guard took Newbie by the elbow and muttered, "Say bye-bye, lover boy."

"Bye!" Newbie shouted as the other guard piloted Nathan away. Newbie stumbled against his guard, knocking his hand on the billy club and seeing stars.

*

Nathan, it turned out, did those pansy-ass but incredibly _hard_ Brit crosswords, the cryptic ones that were all about puns and palindromes and stupid rivers that Newbie'd never heard of. Nathan actually _chuckled_ when Newbie showed him the cover of the _Kid's Big Book O'Fun and Challenge_ , which was pretty rude when you got right down to it.

But once they'd cleared that up and Nathan had written down a whole list of names of trustworthy cryptic authors -- "they prefer to be known as cruciverbalists, of course" -- things got better. Newbie had moved back downtown -- well, the Annex, but it was close to work and the stupid students thronging there didn't bother him nearly as much as they used to -- and sleeping with Faith Nettlesome on occasion and life was looking up.

Except for poor fucking Nathan, of course.

They did their puzzles together, and the Jumble in the _Sun_ , too, and Newbie got pretty good at balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder while scratching in answers and saying "uh-huh" and "hey, hey" to whatever Nathan was bitching about that day.

The visits were once a week, an hour each, and it got to be dependable. Something that Newbie started looking forward to, even though he'd kind of made up with Curtis so they didn't even have _that_ in common any longer. Not that he told Nathan that and, besides, the opportunity never really came up.

Then Nathan got into a "dispute" -- they wouldn't tell Newbie any more than that -- with one of the night-duty guards over the height and/or cleanliness of the urinals, and he got stuck in solitary for two weeks.

Nathan, essentially, went on hiatus.

And in response, Newbie fucking went into _withdrawal_. It was worse than the endless natter of January primetime reruns before February sweeps, it was worse than the Greater Toronto Area Pot Drought of Spring '93, it was worse than those three months when the Bloor Cinema was closed for renovations after some nitwit-numbnuts burned down the balcony. It was all those things, plus Olympics and assassinations preempting regularly scheduled programs, all wrapped up together.

Real withdrawal, with the shakes and the jitters and the aimless lassitude setting in that made him feel all hopeless and bereft and lonely. Nathan was, bar none, the most entertaining thing Newbie had ever found, and now he wasn't available. It hurt like a goddamn amputation.

He'd grown fond of the pissy bastard, he really had. Nathan was anal to the max and really pretty crazy but in a totally fascinating way, almost cinematic except better than a flick, because he was on _all the time_.

*

Then Nathan was on Rex Reilly and it all came together. Literally, that is.

Newbie was transfixed. It was a trainwreck and the crash of the Hindenburg and a European soccer riot all wrapped up in one eye-popping, jaw-dropping, mouth-gaping package.

He hit "rewind" and watched it again. "Jesus FUCK," he said, wincing at how loud his voice got, "I'd tap that ass."

Because there was Nathan, going _nuts_ , advancing on the camera and even Reilly was shaking in his size-five Italian loafers, and the man was _glorious_. Advancing on the camera, fucking _stalking_ it like a rabid lion on outtakes from _Wild Kingdom_ , pointing right at Newbie, right at his heart and his dick, and, sure. Okay. He was yelling at Curtis, but that didn't matter, because he was looking right at Newbie.

"I SEE YOU!"

Like he could into Newbie's fucking _soul_ , those black eyes burning with righteous lunacy and indignant splendor, and Newbie hit pause and just stared back, nodding really slowly.

There hadn't been a moment like this on TV since Howard Beale stood up on his newsdesk and spread out his arms like a tri-color Christ and yelled out his rage and pain. Just like that, this moment was a call to arms, a call to -- Newbie looked into his lap and grinned -- a call to _cock_.

He didn't even have to touch himself, just watch Nathan three more times and he was coming. In his pants like he hadn't since he was a kid, and he was twitching all over and his mouth was dry and his eyes were stinging because he wouldn't let himself blink.

Nathan was The Sex God. Right there, hovering on Newbie's screen, smiling at him as he mopped himself up.

*

This wasn't the first time Newbie got... _feelings_ for a male body. There was the week in uni when there was a marathon of _Soap_ and _The Guns of Navarrone_ and he got inspired by all the homoeroticism. He learned everything from TV, from the bondage fetish that Wonder Woman's invisible lasso gave him to how to do the Heimlich, thanks to Isaac on _Love Boat_ , and thus earn himself a promotion at the store. This was no different.

Curtis didn't much notice when Newbie reached into his lap and started touching him. He was critiquing the costuming choices for the dinosaurs on _Land of the Lost_ and it wasn't until a commercial break that he looked down, then over at Newbie, and shrugged. Tilting his head back, he spread his legs a little wider and Newbie could swear to this day that Curtis said "Luuuuucy" when he came.

Then, nothing, and Baby Blue started showing cheerleader soft-porn again and Newbie forgot all about homoeroticism.

Until Nathan.

*

"Hey, anybody tried to make you his bitch yet?"

Nathan stared back at him. He looked tired today, circles under his eyes and his skin kind of pale.

"No, guess not," Newbie continued. "You've got that kibble-fu going --" He curled his fingers like claws clutching a can of cat food and raised his arm over his head as he let out a long Bruce Lee whistle.

Nathan blanched even more. "I don't what you're talking --"

Newbie bared his teeth and mimed tossing the can like he was doing a karate chop. "Cat food killer, get it? Ah-CHAH! Meow."

"Yes," Nathan said flatly. "My fellow murderers are all inordinately terrified of me."

"Thought so." Newbie sat back, satisfied. "And the warden? He a corrupt old bastard with overtly sadistic tendencies? Or more like a wounded soul with a secret soft spot?"

" _She_ ," Nathan said. "She is --"

"Hey, your warden's a chick?"

"Yes, that's generally what the feminine pronoun signifies." Nathan's eyes narrowed. "Why are you... _smirking_ like that?"

"Nothing." Newbie shifted; it was impossible to get comfortable in these molded-plastic chairs, but he needed more room suddenly. He got this flash of Nathan stripped to the waist like Snake Plissken just before he has to fight the giant, only there's Adrienne Barbeau as the warden rather than Lee Van Cleef, and she's popping out of her dress and Snake/Nathan's standing there, totally ripped, bitching about Curtis. "Nothing. Just -- that's _hot_ , you know?"

Nathan's laugh was like a bark. A bark from a yippy little dog, a Pekinese or something. "I'm not interested in the warden. I _have_ a girlfriend --"

Yeah, Hope was a real keeper. She didn't give _Newbie_ the time of day, but she was all over Couch Lizard Curtis. Newbie shook his head, because he was trying to like Curtis again. "But --" He leaned in, his voice dropping. "Is she interested in you? Has she taken a, let's say, _personal_ interest in your case?"

"Stop it! God!"

"Is she looking to put the UH into re-UH-bilitation?" Newbie thrust a couple times, just to be clear.

Nathan covered his face with his hands and shuddered.

"Hey," Newbie said. "You okay?"

*

All in all, this was shaping up to be the best relationship Newbie had ever had. Pros: their conversations could only run so long before the alarm sounded and the visitors got herded out. Thus, it was nothing like the way chicks would trick and corner you into talking _forever_. Since they only saw each other once a week, there wasn't any danger of getting sick of each other; Nathan was nuts, and Newbie already _knew_ that, so no bad surprises. And, best of all, it was pretty fucking amazing what a well-deployed remark like "my boyfriend's in prison" could wreak in terms of comfort, attention, and cool-q.

The downsides were few, and Newbie tried not to think about them too much. One, all this meant that he might be gay. Two, Nathan really was nuts. In, like, more than just the entertaining way.

Oh, and three: No sex.

"Nathan?"

Nathan was frowning down at his puzzle. "What?"

The time had come and Newbie couldn't quite get his lips to work. "Hey."

"What? Is it 26-Down? Because that was in last Tuesday's cryptic. I'm surprised you don't remember that." He tapped his temple. "It's all a matter of long-term memory, you see --"

"No. Hey. Something else." His eyes were locked now on Nathan's mouth. Wide flexible lips and that tongue, which, judging from what he'd seen of the tip when Nathan was concentrating really hard, was broad and soft and -- Oh, _God_.

" _What_ , Newbie?"

He spoke in a rush, unable to look at Nathan's eyes. "Heyyouevermisssex?"

Nathan didn't answer. Newbie started to feel like a total tool, because it was possible -- nay, likely -- that Nathan _was_ getting some. Handsome, smart, passionate bastard like that was probably a hot item in here.

He shouldn't have said anything. Most great relationships suffered when sexual tension was consummated -- look at David and Maddie, Hawkeye and Hot Lips, Sam and Diane. He should've kept his mouth shut; he didn't _want_ to be Hot Lips. He wanted to be Trapper John.

Except Curtis was Hawkeye and Curtis wasn't here.

But Nathan was.

"Forget it," Newbie said and looked back down at his puzzle. Nathan wasn't allowed real pencils in jail, just the little stubby ones that you used at miniature golf, so in solidarity Newbie had chopped up _his_ own pencils. Except now he didn't have an eraser and he was pretty sure that "kvamai" was not an answer. "14-Across is kicking my ass."

"Yes, I do," Nathan said quietly. "Miss sex, that is." He gave a tired little chuckle. Newbie immediately revised his ideas about Nathan and prison sex, erasing the whole Hot Ticket idea and going with the lonely principled figure, like the Birdman of Alcatraz. "If you any ideas how to...rectify the situation, I'm all ears."

 _Rectify_ had to be, by far and bar none, the sexiest word Newbie had ever heard. Low, harsh, intense: Fuck, but his fingers were curling in response. He cleared his throat with some difficulty and said, "Hey. Yeah, I'll _rectify_."

*

Newbie loved his country. The CBC might suck -- except for Mr. Dress-Up, of course -- and CanCon regulations basically _blew_ , but there were Moses Znaimer and Sook-Yin Lee to make up for that. And the politics were, when you got down to it, really fucking righteous. According to the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, same-sex couples were allowed conjugal prison visits.

Okay, so the room wasn't exactly _intimate_ , but he'd seen enough amateur porn, shot in seedily anonymous motel rooms, to pick up a good sexy vibe.

On the other hand, Nathan wasn't really helping. He sat frozen on the edge of the bed with his hands clutched in his lap, kind of curled and hunched into himself like he was afraid Newbie would hit him.

Which was pretty funny right there, because in a cage match between Skinny Geekboy and The Cat Food Killer, who would win?

 _Exactly_.

"I suppose all the booths are filled," Nathan was saying. "Odd, though, that they'd put us in here, don't you think?"

He was so shy, so timid, that Newbie was getting twice as turned on. He'd dyed his hair the day before, but Nathan wasn't even looking at him to notice.

"At the same time, this does make it easier to correct your mistakes in last week's Word Find. I mean, really. 'Bilwqr'? What were you _thinking_?"

Newbie stood right in front of Nathan, dropping to his knees just like he'd been practicing, and yanked his shirt off over his head.

"Oh my _God_! What are you _doing_?" Nathan tried to scramble away, but he was trapped between Newbie and the mattress.

"Rectifying," Newbie said, grasping Nathan's knees and leaning in. He smiled to show _all_ his teeth.

"Christ, you think -- I'm not -- What do you think you're _doing_?"

When Nathan got worked up like this, shouting, his eyes gone wide and wild and the flush staining his cheeks and throat, Newbie could hardly bear the hotness. Especially _now_ , no screen between them, so close, live and in-person, full Technicolor and Dolby surround-sound.

Nathan was panting for breath when Newbie kissed him. Scope and spittle, and Nathan clutched at Newbie's shoulders, then shoved him away. Newbie fell back, hitting his head on the pressed knotty-pine baseboard, sprawled out.

"This isn't -- We're not -- _Newbie_. We _can't_ \--"

"Hey. Hey. Sure we can," Newbie said as he struggled up on one elbow. "They gave me lots of rubbers."

Nathan gaped at him. Sweat dampening the lock of hair in the middle of his forehead, the very same lock that Newbie had been fantasizing about more and more lately. Tugging it at the height of a blowjob, stroking it back in the afterglow...Yeah. "Newbie, I'm not gay."

"Sure you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you _are_." Newbie took a deep breath and tried to sound gentle. He'd seen enough Lifetime Original movies and Afterschool Specials to know that the coming-out process was a big deal. "Everybody knows, don't worry."

"I am. Not. _Gay_!"

"Look, Nathan." Newbie sat up all the way, his knees pressing into the cement beneath the shag carpet. "You're anal. You're wound tighter than Captain Picard. You're like crazily neat and really articulate and incredibly overbearing and well-educated."

Nathan was nodding along, a faint smile playing over his lips -- he had a pretty healthy amount of self-esteem and Newbie admired the hell out of that -- before his head snapped back up. "And that means I'm gay, I take it?"

"Yeah. Plus --" Newbie leaned in, much more slowly this time, "You. Hey. You turn me the fuck _on_ , and what's that about?"

"Maybe _you're_ gay, ever think of that?"

"Thought about it, yeah," Newbie said and risked putting his hand on Nathan's thigh. Broad and strong, probably from working out in the yard. Nice. "Thought about it _a lot_."

Before Newbie's brain could catch up, Nathan was on his feet, banging at the door to be let out. But Jerrold was on-duty, and he was Newbie's favorite guard, and he'd winked as he'd done only a pro forma stripsearch and loaded Newbie up with rubbers and little packets of lube.

"Let me out!" Nathan yelled.

Jerrold yelled back, "You can go longer than three minutes, man!"

Nathan tipped his head against the door, rolling it back and forth.

It took Newbie a long time to figure out what to do, but finally he decided on a _Thirtysomething_ -style subtle gesture, rather than a nighttime-soap Grand Confrontation. Quiet and reassuring instead of big and purple, so he stood behind Nathan and put his hand on the back of Nathan's neck.

He rested it there lightly, letting his thumb circle slowly over one tense tendon, watching Nathan's reactions just as closely as his own movements. That lock of hair behind Nathan's left ear wasn't as soft as Newbie'd always imagined, but a little dry. They probably didn't get very good shampoo in here.

"Hey," Newbie said. "Do anything you want. _Everything_."

Nathan didn't turn around, but his shoulders sagged and the tension seemed to be easing out of him little by little. He was trembling slightly and Newbie got that; he was, like, full-body shivering.

Gradually, he realized that Nathan was laughing. Not joyously or anything, but like he couldn't quite help it.

"What's so funny?" Newbie asked.

Finally, Nathan started to turn around, inch by inch, Newbie's hand moving with him, until he was leaning against the door and looking at Newbie from under half-lowered lids. "I generally don't sleep with -- people on the first date."

"Hey, good policy." Newbie slid his hand around to the side of Nathan's neck, fingers in his hair. "So, like, dinner and a movie?"

"Or perhaps good conversation," Nathan said with some difficulty. Drained and still trembly, as if he was already in the fourth-act aftermath stage.

They regarded each other. Newbie felt a nervous grin creeping over his face the longer the silence went on. Maybe Nathan was waiting for him to start, but _he_ was the one who wanted to talk.

"Um --" Newbie said and stopped.

Nathan lifted his chin. "So. What do we have in common?"

Newbie started to answer but Nathan held up his palm. "Besides Curtis."

"Oh. Well, I've been visiting you almost every week for like three months. That's got to count for something."

"True," Nathan said. He was starting to look more like himself; Newbie couldn't put his finger on it -- they were in Nathan's hair, after all, ha -- but it was kind of like Nathan's expression was clearing and sharpening, like the focus was getting dialed up.

"And --" Newbie paused, trying to think of other things. At the same time, though, he couldn't see why it mattered. The people he had shit in common with, like Curtis or Faith, weren't the people he was thinking about all the time, fantasizing about. Having nostalgic wet dreams over. "Um. Oh! I'd never cheat on you. Especially not with Curtis."

He hoped that Nathan would smile at that, but instead Nathan just said, all grave and flat, "How do I know that?"

"Hey, Curtis is like one of my heroes, right?" When Nathan winced at that, Newbie spoke more quickly. "Got a lot of heroes, doesn't matter. Whole pantheon. Anyway, he smells, besides. Really pretty rank. And also I don't think he likes guys much. Plus, agoraphobic, so it's not like he'd want to hit the town any time soon."

Nathan smiled, his lips thin. "I'm locked up here for five to eight years."

Newbie waved his hand. "Yeah. Different, though."

Any other time, Newbie was sure, Nathan would have argued that point. It was his whole sophist thing, brute-force logic and shit, but now, he just nodded slowly. "So what do you do besides watch far too much television?"

Newbie started to pace, but his right shoe got tangled in the tricky shag and his balance wavered precariously before Nathan caught his arm.

"Thanks. What do I do besides watch TV? I watch movies. Read." Nathan's eyes widened at that, like he doubted it could possibly be true. "I do. Biographies, mostly, and magazines. Lotta magazines, 'cause of the shop. And the shop -- hey, that's a big thing. I like to think of myself --" He paused, realizing simultaneously that Nathan was still holding his arm and that he was about to make a huge fool of himself. "I think of myself as an integral strand in the neighborhood's warp and weft. You know, Jane Jacobs, she's got this theory about eyes on the street and what it means in a neighborhood? That's me." He pointed his index and middle fingers at his eyes, then at Nathan, and grinned. "Hey. Eye man. That's me."

Nathan smiled and Newbie found that they were sitting on the bed and just _talking_. It was really fucking weird, actually. Talking was, he'd always thought, for chicks. Something biological, he remembered some wanker arguing in the dorms one night, about how men need to fuck and chicks need to talk. Which, given the dykes Newbie knew, seemed pretty inaccurate.

But the point was, they were talking. Nathan sat up, Newbie lay curled on his side, and it was cool. Just mellow, which was the weirdest part of all. And then the buzzer sounded and Jerrold was opening the door to usher them out.

Except then the even-weirder weirdest part happened, because before he stood up, Nathan leaned over and kissed Newbie.

Not, like, hotly or passionately or anything. Gently, just a little tongue, and if Newbie hadn't drawn on all his reserves of manly knowledge, he might've swooned. Thanks to _The Green Berets_ and The Fonz, he kept his cool.

It felt fucking great, though. No argument there.

*

Newbie had no idea how to prepare for the next visit. He'd pretty much blown his wad on the first -- new dye, new vintage novelty t-shirt from the very last rack at Courage My Love -- so he was up a creek. He floundered for several days until he caught an episode on CityLine about "Everyday Celebrations". It was important, he learned, to mark small things. To celebrate whatever it was that made you happy; no need to wait for the big stuff, anniversaries and birthdays.

So he asked Hope to make him a dick cake and she just scrunched up her face like he was joking. She did the same thing about the breast cake, which Nathan might have liked better, not that Newbie, at this point, wanted to encourage that kind of heterosexual inclination.

The dark and broody guy at the bakery, though, didn't have any similar objections. Newbie even sprang for a cab to the jail so he could hold the box on his lap and know it wouldn't get squished on the streetcar.

It was a goddamn beautiful piece of art, that cake. Two balls, chocolate cake frosted with caramel and chocolate shavings and a vanilla cock, frosted in berry-vanilla. Tasty.

Jerrold smirked at the cake but didn't cut into it like Newbie was afraid he might. The extra box of profiteroles probably helped.

He got into the sex room before Nathan and set the box down carefully onto the bedside table, right next to the candles.

When Nathan came in, a roll of paper under his arm, he looked _beautiful_.

"New uniform?" Newbie asked.

Nathan ducked his head. "Double laundry, yes."

He sat next to Newbie and for a minute or seven they just looked down at their shoes. High school all over again.

"Hey --" Newbie started.

"I have something for you," Nathan said at the same time.

"Okay. Um, me, too."

"Me first," Nathan said and shifted around so he was facing Newbie as he unrolled the paper. "You did say everything."

"Yeah," Newbie said.

"This," Nathan said and he sounded proud and shy all at once, "is a sex wheel. Or, if you prefer, a romance wheel. You'll observe that you, Newbie, are coded in pink, with --"

"Why am I pink?"

"They were out of red construction paper."

"Oh, okay."

"You're pink and I'm yellow. Further, each body part is named. They are classed in two groups, penetrative and receptive. Mouth and, erm, ass, you see, are receptive, while hands, tongue and penis are penetrative."

"What's the difference between mouth and tongue."

"I'm glad you noticed that. The difference, of course, is _intent_. If you wish to --" Nathan spread the poster between them and made air-quotes. "-- 'do me', as they say, that desire might take the form of fucking." He turned the pink wheel to line up 'penis' with the yellow wheel's section titled 'anus'."

"Hey. Cool."

"Thank you. But perhaps you might be feeling a little more subtle." Slowly and, Newbie had to say, _provocatively_ , Nathan turned the Newbie-wheel to 'tongue', keeping the Nathan-wheel where it was. "And there you have analingus, or, as it's vulgarly known, rimming, in which the tongue is the penetrator."

Newbie had to swallow several times, but even so, his tongue felt about a gazillion times thicker than usual. "Wow."

"Whereas, you see," Nathan continued, turning both wheels until Newbie's 'mouth' met the yellow wheel's 'penis', "here the mouth is the receptor for my --"

"Cock." Now his mouth was Sahara-dry and Newbie wanted vaguely to adjust himself, only his hands were frozen into curled-up claws.

Nodding gravely, Nathan looked down at his wheel.

Newbie dragged himself away from sinking further into this weird pillar of salt/lust/stuff. "Hey -- hands, though. They can be, what's it called, receptive." Nathan's brow furrowed at that, so Newbie mimed jacking off. "Like, handjobs."

Nathan beamed at him. Newbie grinned back; he felt like he'd just won the Lotto 649 jackpot. "Ahh! That contingency, of course, is accommodated by the wheel." He moved his 'penis' around to meet Newbie's 'hand'.

They gazed down at the wheel together. Every possibility sorted out and recombined: it was the most amazing thing Newbie had ever seen. It put the schedule-grids in _TV Guide_ to shame, because those were simply lines of information. This thing _moved_ and promised and accommodated.

Still, something was bugging him.

"Not sure about the paradigm you've got going here, Nathan."

Nathan looked up, his eyes wary.

"Don't get me wrong," Newbie continued. "It's great. I love it." Nathan smiled at that and Newbie patted his hand. Hey, he could move. Cool. "But the whole penetrative/receptive thing, isn't that kind of...like, limiting?"

When Nathan smiled, Newbie couldn't help but gape. The smile was wide and sunny and made Nathan look about twenty years younger, like the guy on the poster over the bed. "They're really just suggestions. Mere taxonomic conveniences, if you will. Now, if the wheel were set up such that it locked -- so that, for example, your receptive areas could only match my penetrative ones -- or vice versa, of course -- then, yes. Your objection would have some merit. But you see --" So slowly, slowly enough that Newbie's breath left his lungs and his eyes started to burn, Nathan turned both wheels until 'penis' aligned with 'penis'. He'd never known the whisper of paper-on-posterboard could be so fucking _sexy_. "-- Frottage and other mutual activities are _always_ possible."

Nathan's hand was right there, right on top of the wheel, and Newbie reached forward, mouth dry and nerves twanging and jangling, until he could touch it. He lifted Nathan's fingers and bent forward, careful not to wrinkle the poster. First, he turned the wheels until the yellow penetrating 'hand' met the pink receptive 'mouth', then he looked up and met Nathan's eyes.

Huge and dark eyes, every color spinning together. Newbie could drown there. He sucked Nathan's index finger into his mouth.

 _That's_ where it all started.

Started for real, all over again. Premiere, sweeps, finale, all wrapped up into one, dazzling him as he tasted, sucked, moaned, and the poster slid to the floor as Nathan lay down and pulled Newbie on top of him.

"And for later," Newbie murmured into the hot skin of Nathan's neck, "there's dick cake!"


End file.
